Watching the Girls Go By
by OneWonders
Summary: A collection of stories about the goings on in Camelot as Arthur, Merlin and the knights set about rebuilding after Morgana's defeat at the end of season 3. Banter and bromance. Chapter 4 is now up, would you believe! The World of Good: Arthur's attempts to stamp out further mention of Boris and the Chamber Pot Incident is met with resistance.
1. Watching the Girls Go By, Part 1

Summary: As Arthur, Merlin and the knights set about rebuilding Camelot after Morgana's defeat, a short break in their work gives them time for chatting up girls, philosophising and swapping tips about women. Banter and bromance...Lots of it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

A/N: This story started as a bit of banter between Merlin and Arthur to help me with some writers block and grew a bit. It was supposed to be a quick one-shot but it's turned out to be a two-parter instead. Reviews would be lovely.

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><p><span>Watching the girls go by<span>

Merlin felt relief rush through his body as Gwaine took a firm hold of the stone, grunted and took its weight from him, turning quickly to swing it on to Percival who stood next in line. His chest heaving, Merlin scrunched up his face in disgust as he watched the newly-made knight lift the stone from Gwaine's hands with ease before sauntering the last few yards to the pile as though he were carrying a pillow rather than a considerable section of the East Wall.

"Makes it look easy, doesn't he?" Gwaine muttered from his hunched over position, hands on knees.

Merlin didn't have the breath to answer so merely sighed, squinted a little and shook his head. Gwaine stood up straight and observed him a little closer.

"You sure you're alright? You don't have anything to prove, you know."

Merlin shook his head a little more vehemently. "I'm...fine," he insisted breathlessly. "Grand, in fact."

Gwaine looked unconvinced. Merlin fought off the black fog building on the edges of his vision and tried to sound a little more convincing.

"Could do this all day," he announced. He was going for 'nonchalant' but suspected the result was more 'kidding himself'.

Gwaine grinned and gave Merlin a thump of the shoulder which was nearly enough to finish him. "Right you are. Look out behind you."

Merlin turned and nearly groaned out loud as he saw the size of the stone approaching them along the chain. Maybe he could just create a distraction off in the distance and magic all of the godforsaken stones into neat piles ready for the masons before everyone looked back. Surely no one would suspect anything?

"Ready, Merlin?"

Lancelot, standing immediately to Merlin's right, was just about to turn to receive the next stone and was frowning at Merlin anxiously. Despite the good intentions of both his friends, Merlin felt himself bristle.

"I'm not a child you know!" he snapped and he shook his arms (surely they were at least a foot longer after this morning's labour?) to ready himself. "I can carry a stupid rock. Give it here."

Lancelot's eyebrows arched and he threw a mirthful glance across to Gwaine.

"You heard the man," Gwaine laughed.

Lancelot nodded and turned to his right to accept the stone from his neighbour. Merlin shook his head disparagingly.

"Maybe you _knights _aren't used to this kind of hard work," he scoffed, reaching out to take the stone Lancelot was in the process of swinging in his direction. "But us servants –_Oof!_"

All at once Merlin felt the stone come into contact with his stomach and his over-worked arms. His fingers gripped the rock insistently but his arms wobbled, his back gave way and seconds later he was sprawled on the ground, the rock beneath him and his fingertips beneath the rock. Gasping for air, Merlin felt his cheeks flush red. Please don't let many people have seen.

"Merlin." It was Arthur. Of course it was Arthur. "You really are _utterly _useless."

Merlin grimaced and managed to raise his head enough to see the Prince standing before him, his arms folded across his chest and a disgusted (and yet slightly jovial) expression on his dirt-covered face. Merlin let out a long sigh and started trying to wriggle his fingers free.

Within seconds he was on his feet, Percival and Gwaine having managed to hoist him up, but mortified and more than a little unsteady. They were all laughing, although everyone except Arthur had the good grace to try to hide it.

"There's a reason we don't have the _girls_ do the heavy-lifting, you know, Merlin," Arthur observed snidely, swinging an arm over his servant's shoulders. "Perhaps you'd be more comfortable helping the recovery efforts by...I don't know...embroidering something?"

Merlin turned his grimy face to Arthur. "Very funny, Sire. Very funny."

Arthur looked set to continue his roll of humour when Lancelot interrupted, speaking in a low voice on account of the growing number of spectators.

"Perhaps a break might be a good idea, Arthur? Everyone's beginning to feel the strain."

To Merlin's surprise, the Prince nodded immediately. "Of course, Lancelot," he agreed, before turning to the crowd of workers, his arm still resting across Merlin's shoulders. "Alright everyone, we'll take a break while poor _Mer_lin recovers himself. There's a lot of work still to do to restore the East Wall and we need to get it done before we can get back to the work in the lower town. So everyone make sure you get something to eat and drink. We'll start again shortly." He turned as if to go but stopped suddenly and grasped Merlin's shoulders from behind. "Oh, and if anyone comes across a spare embroidery hoop, be sure to let Merlin here know."

Merlin gave a smile which was something between a grin and a wince. Gwaine laughed out loud to look at him and even Lancelot had laughter glowing in his eyes. Letting out a deep sigh, Merlin turned to follow Arthur.

The Crown Prince and stubbornly-unofficial regent was clambering relatively gracefully up onto a section of the broken wall. As he seated himself he looked down at Merlin and grinned.

Seeing something friendly in the smile rather than snide and mischievous, Merlin grinned back.

"How about something to eat?" Arthur suggested.

"Sounds good," Merlin agreed, looking around for the implied items of food. It wasn't until he looked back up at Arthur that he noticed the raised eyebrows.

"Oh," Merlin mumbled. "You want me to get it for you. Right."

He tried to muster enough energy in his weary body to go looking for something for the Prince to eat. Every single muscle in his body hurt.

"Merlin." He looked around and saw Arthur stretching his hand down towards him. "Get up here and sit down before you faint and make an even bigger fool of yourself."

His smile returning, Merlin reached up and took a hold of the offered hand, scrambling inelegantly up to sit next to Arthur, nearly pushing the Crown Prince backwards off the wall in the process. Once he was settled, the pair sat in silence, examining the fresh blisters on their hands and watching as the strange collection of knights, soldiers and townsfolk who had been working on the repair effort sought a place to rest or simply sank to the ground in exhaustion.

It wasn't just today that had been hard work. In the short time since Morgana had been defeated there had been little time for rest. Much of the town had been destroyed and the many homeless were living in temporary billets set up within the walls of the citadel. Food was scarce and the crops which lay in the path taken by Cenred's army had all been destroyed, placing pressure of what supplies they had. Many were dead. Men, women and children had been slaughtered indiscriminately if they had not been able to hide, and the castle's guard had been decimated. A vast number of Camelot's knights had also been lost. Merlin would not soon forget the grief which had been plain to see on Arthur's face the first time he had called together those who remained, the missing faces clear in each man's mind's eye.

But they did not take long to mourn. Too many lives were at stake and Camelot's devastated defences had left the Kingdom incredibly vulnerable. Once Guinevere had been safely escorted back to Camelot, Arthur had set the entire population to work in earnest. Endless lists of tasks had been drawn up, priorities set and sacrifices made. Then everyone had followed their Prince's lead, rolling up their sleeves and setting to work.

Merlin turned his head a little and cast Arthur a careful glance. The Prince was leaning forward and holding his forehead in one hand, his smile gone. He looked exhausted. He had been spending his few precious hours of rest each night in Uther's chamber, dozing in a chair by the King's bed when he wasn't staring, blank-faced at his sedated father, his expression unreadable even to Merlin. He couldn't go on like this for much longer. Merlin looked away. Maybe he'd speak to Gwen about convincing him to get a little more sleep.

"We'd really better find something to eat," Arthur announced wearily, breaking in to Merlin's thoughts.

"I'll raid the kitchens," Merlin offered, already trying to encourage his body into a standing position. "What do you fancy?"

But Arthur shook his head. "Someone else can do it. Sit down."

Merlin let his muscles relax again. He wasn't going to argue. This was another thing that had changed since Morgana's defeat. Arthur had joked with him that first day about cleaning his boots, but he'd never actually told him to do it. Another pair of hands had done the job, and had continued to clean them each night. Maybe it should have embarrassed Merlin that the castle servants had absorbed many of his tasks with such ease (how did they make it look so effortless?) but as the end result was that Merlin rarely had to take care of any laundry and hadn't mucked out a stable or scrubbed a floor in weeks, he wasn't about to complain.

Spotting a girl walking among the workers with a basket of apples, Arthur called out to her, leaned down and took two from the top, passing one to Merlin. They crunched contentedly and squinted into the distance where a long thin line of people could be seen making their way towards the castle, laden with baskets and bundles of belongings: more refugees from the outlying towns.

"Where are we going to put them all?" Arthur sighed.

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. "You'll find somewhere, just like you did yesterday."

Arthur looked doubtful. "Eventually we'll run out of room."

"Yep," Merlin agreed, taking another bite of his apple. "But not today. Deal with today's problems today and tomorrow's problems tomorrow."

Arthur shook his head. "The impact of that great philosophical insight might have been greater had you _not_ been spitting bits of apple as you talked."

Merlin grinned wider and wiped the offending bits of chewed up apple off Arthur's breeches with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Look at him," Arthur burst out after a short break of silence. "He just can't help himself."

Merlin looked in the direction Arthur was waving his apple core and saw Gwaine sitting on the other side of the path on a low crate and talking to the young woman who was giving out the apples. He was covered from head to toe in dust and hadn't washed properly in days but he was still giving her his most devilish smile.

Merlin let out a chuckle. "He can't even stand up and he's still trying his luck."

"Merlin, Gwaine could be two days dead and he'd still give it his best shot if there was a pretty girl standing near his funeral pyre."

Further sprays of chewed apple accompanied Merlin's shout of laughter. Arthur slapped his back as he started to choke and then the two returned to picking the last bits of white flesh from their cores.

"I ought to pull him up on it," Arthur observed. "It's hardly fitting for a Knight of Camelot."

Merlin snorted. "If you do, can I watch?"

"I won't do it," Arthur muttered with more than a hint of annoyance. "He'd up and leave and I can't afford to lose another good knight now."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Merlin said. "I don't think he's going anywhere, Arthur."

Merlin grinned as he watched Gwaine continue in his attempt to charm the young woman. He had maintained his defiant exterior over the last couple of weeks, breaking small rules for the sake of it and partaking a little too liberally of the mead. But only yesterday Merlin had observed him carefully brushing a thin layer of dust from his cloak, taking particular care over the crest which fell over his left shoulder. Gwaine might have had no interest in becoming a knight before, but Merlin suspected things had changed. Arthur's Round Table, this new Camelot they were starting to build together – this was something he could believe in.

As they watched, the train of refugees came steadily closer and within minutes they were wandering along the rough path which separated Merlin and Arthur on the wall from the rest of the workers. If they were weary from their journey they seemed to have taken heart at the sight of the castle and the rebuilding work going on, for they chattered loudly among each other, their eyes wide as they looked up at the turrets.

"I remember the first time I saw Camelot," Merlin pondered, watching the procession before them. "It took my breath away."

Arthur looked over his shoulder at the scorch marks which marred some of the stonework and the crumbling walls held up with hastily constructed scaffolding and sheer optimism. "It's not such a sight at the moment."

Merlin shook his head. "It's still magnificent," he declared.

"Excuse me." The voice came from the path and both men turned to look down at the young woman standing before them. She smiled nervously. "Sorry for interrupting, but do you know if they're taking people in? We've come such a long way and I don't know what we'll do it there's no room for us."

Merlin stared down at the girl as Arthur spoke to her, assuring her a place would be found for them somewhere. She had long blonde hair which was tied back with a thin strip of leather. Her face and hands were as dirty as her dress but underneath the grime you could tell she was beautiful. She looked tired but so hopeful. He grinned down at her.

"Where is it you've come from?" he asked.

"Miletha," she answered. "It's a small village near the border with Cenred's lands. You've probably never heard of it."

She was right on that score with Merlin, but he knew Arthur would be familiar with it. He knew every village and hamlet within Camelot's borders, along with their rough population, best positions for defence and crop production for the last _million_ years. He was annoyingly proficient with things like that.

Sure enough, Arthur immediately assured her he knew the place. "I've heard there's not a lot left standing out that way. Were all the crops destroyed?"

The girl nodded. "Everything. We hid in the woods until they had all passed by. They burnt the houses and destroyed everything we had. We didn't know where we should go." They'd heard so many stories like this, so many accounts of death and destruction. "We couldn't believe it when we heard Prince Arthur had defeated them."

Merlin smiled. She had no idea who she was talking too, and it was little wonder seeing as Arthur looked just as filthy and exhausted as everyone else. "Yeah, that Prince Arthur," Merlin agreed. "He's quite a guy."

"I heard he took back the citadel practically singlehandedly?" the girl asked.

Merlin opened his mouth to set her straight but Arthur beat him to it.

"Practically," the Prince agreed.

Merlin threw his master a look of disgusted disbelief. Arthur grinned back at him shamelessly.

"It's just as well he's such a good warrior," Merlin interceded, tearing his eyes away from Arthur to lean down towards the girl and whisper to her conspiratorially. "'Cause he's a bit of a prat in every other way."

She let out a gasp of laughter. "Surely he's not that bad?"

"Oh, he is," Merlin assured her. "Arrogant, conceited, supercilious...Bigger head than you could begin to imagine. I heard he has portraits of himself hung all over the walls in his chambers!"

He saw Arthur open his mouth to protest but he suddenly seemed distracted by something as he looked at the girl, who was giggling warmly. Merlin couldn't believe he was getting away with it...or that their new acquaintance seemed to find him so funny. He decided to take the opportunity and run with it.

"I've even heard," he continued in a low and confidential tone, "that he says 'good morning' to his own reflection every morning before breakfast." Here he switched to his very best 'Arthur' impression. "'Good morning, Arthur, you're looking remarkably fit and virile this morning'."

As he grinned at the rosy cheeked girl he could make out Arthur glaring at him from the corner of his eye and guessed he was having to bite his tongue to stop himself responding. He was really going to cop it later. But right now he didn't care. It served the prat right.

"I can't believe that," the girl laughed, shaking her head. "Surely no one thinks that much of themselves?"

"Oh, you haven't met Prince Arthur," Arthur drawled, sardonically, causing Merlin to chuckle quietly.

The girl's eyes didn't leave Merlin's face. "So, you live here in Camelot?"

"Ah, yeah." He scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly. The thought had suddenly occurred to him that this girl might be being so nice to him because she _liked_ him. He was immediately painfully aware of Arthur's interest in the conversation. He threw him a quick glance and saw the Prince sitting back on the wall and grinning somewhat impishly. Blood flooded to Merlin's cheeks. He'd obviously been a bit slow on the uptake. "Yeah, I've lived here for a few years now."

"It must be exciting living in such a big, busy place," the girl said, reaching up to tuck a couple of stray locks behind her ear. Merlin found himself a considered the long line of her neck and coughed awkwardly.

"Uh, yeah. It's...big." Argh! He didn't seem able to string a sentence together all of a sudden. Over her shoulder he caught a glimpse of Gwaine and Lancelot on the other side of the path who had noticed his conversation and were sporting expressions much the same as Arthur's and smiling at him somewhat indulgently. He tried his best to ignore them and recover his power of speech. "It's a great place to live, I guess. Life's never dull, anyway."

The girl smiled again. "Do you live in the town?"

"No. I...uh...I live in here," Merlin replied, waving his hand in the vague direction of the castle.

"Oh," the girl breathed, obviously impressed. "You must be important. What is it you do?"

Merlin could feel his face burning red to the tips of his ears. How could he make warming Arthur's socks in front of the fire every morning sound 'important'? He searched frantically for the right words, aware the whole time that Arthur was sitting forward now and watching him intently, eyebrows raised nearly to the top of his stupid smug forehead. A thousand lies sprung to mind, but none of them would get past Arthur. "Oh, not important really. I'm just...well, it's like..." He let out a long sigh and resigned himself to the embarrassing truth. "I'm a..."

"An advisor," Arthur cut in. "Merlin's an advisor...of sorts."

Merlin's head whipped around to look at Arthur in astonishment and then back to the girl, who looked more impressed than ever. He laughed nervously.

"An advisor?" she asked. "Who is it you advise?"

Merlin opened his mouth but he had no idea what to say. This was all getting a little complicated. He threw Arthur a beseeching look, to which the Prince responded with a roll of his eyes.

"Prince Arthur," Arthur prompted. "Merlin's one of the Prince's advisors, aren't you, Merlin?"

Merlin nodded quickly, an unfamiliar surge of gratitude flooding through him.

The girl was shaking her head in surprise, her warm smile managing to coax one from Merlin in return. "Wow. So what's it like working with the Prince?"

"Well, Arthur's a..."

"Egotistical idiot?" Arthur supplied in a low voice edged with irony.

Merlin grinned broadly. "Arthur's a friend," he finished. "Of sorts."

The girl laughed lightly. "And here I was thinking I was talking to one of the workers. I never would have guessed I was in such illustrious company."

Merlin's smile faltered. He'd just risked another glimpse over her shoulder. Making their way across the path towards them, with Gwaine in the lead and all with amusement written across their faces, was a group of knights who looked set to make as much trouble as if they were a mob of mischievous adolescent boys.

Gwaine threw him a wink.

Merlin groaned. "Oh no."

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><p>AN: If you want to see Gwaine & Co. doing their best to torment our poor Merlin in a very big-brotherish manner, part 2 should be up in the next few days. Cheers.


	2. Watching the Girls Go By, Part 2

Summary: As Arthur, Merlin and the knights set about rebuilding Camelot after Morgana's defeat, a short break in their work gives them time for chatting up girls, philosophising and swapping tips about women. Banter and bromance...Lots of it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad it made a few people giggle. Hope you enjoy the second half, too.

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><p><span>Watching the Girls Go By, Part 2<span>

Merlin was tempted to turn each of them into toads; fat, slimy toads with wicked little smirks on their stupid fat faces.

Looking up at the new faces with wide eyes, the girl seemed startled to find herself suddenly being beamed at by the group of knights who had clustered around them. She looked up at Merlin and caught him scowling at the newcomers while Arthur rocked back on his seat on the wall and chuckled to himself.

"My Lady." Gwaine swept into a low bow. "We just wanted to take the opportunity to welcome you to Camelot and to introduce ourselves. This is Lancelot, Percival, Leon and Elyan. And I'm Gwaine."

The girl smiled cautiously. "I'm pleased to meet you all. My name's Edith."

"The pleasure is all ours, isn't it, boys?" Gwaine grinned, looking around to see the others nodding warmly. "You're a friend of our Merlin's?"

The girl looked up at Merlin with a blush which was almost painful. Merlin opened and closed his mouth a few times without managing to produce a sound.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Edith," he mediated, "allow me to introduce Merlin. Merlin, this is Edith of Miletha."

Merlin didn't know whether he wanted to thank Arthur or hit him. Slightly awkwardly, he reached out his right hand towards Edith. She placed her hand in his and Merlin grinned at her. Her hand was warm and work-worn.

"I'd really better catch up with my family," Edith murmured after a long moment. "It's been very nice talking to you, Merlin. And thank you for your advice about accommodation, uh..." She looked up at Arthur with a frown on her face. "I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name?"

"Boris," Merlin supplied urgently. "This is Boris."

The knights exchanged confused glances and Arthur looked as if he were being pushed to the edge of his patience. But rather than telling the truth, or reaching over and thumping Merlin, he forced his face into a smile and gave Edith a little wave of his hand. "Boris," he confirmed, stoically.

"Well, thank you, Boris. It's been nice meeting you all."

Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but Gwaine got in first. "You know, Camelot can be quite a hard place to find your way around when you first get here," he pointed out. "Perhaps Merlin could show you around some time?"

Merlin's eyes widened and he threw Gwaine a glare which was supposed to tell him to mind his own business but only made his grin grow wider.

"I don't want to be a bother," Edith said shyly when Merlin didn't speak.

"No!" Merlin cried out, much to the amusement of the onlookers. "No. I mean, it wouldn't be any bother. I'd be happy to show you around...if you like."

"See, Merlin's really helpful like that," Gwaine grinned. "Isn't he, boys?"

"He is indeed," Lancelot agreed, his eyes leaping with laughter.

"Although," Percival murmured, "I don't seem to remember Merlin giving me a tour when I first got here."

"Me neither," Elyan cried, folding his arms over his chest. "What's that about, Merlin?"

Arthur snorted. "I think Merlin's thinking up a few places he could tell you to go right now."

Sniggers broke out throughout the group and Merlin had to fight down the urge to give them all a magical smack across the top of their heads. He did his best to shut out every one of his troublemaking, onetime-friends and smiled encouragingly at a bewildered looking Edith.

"How about tomorrow morning? I can show you around the parts of the town which are safe to use at the moment and if your family needs anything I can see what I can do to help. Would that be alright?"

Edith smiled warmly. "Thank you, Merlin; that would be wonderful. You're sure you have the time?"

"I think Arthur could do without my advice for a couple of hours," Merlin beamed.

"I _know_ he could," muttered Arthur.

Merlin ignored him entirely. "I'll find you tomorrow," he told Edith.

She threw smiles all around and then turned and hurried off along the path in search of her family. The group stood and sat where they were, watching until she was out of sight, at which point Merlin let out a playful growl and launched himself off the wall at Gwaine. He caught him by surprise enough to knock him backwards and for the briefest of moments Merlin had the upper hand. But the two tussled for only a short amount of time, cheered on by the shouts of laughter of Arthur and the others, before Gwaine stood up straight, Merlin's head locked conveniently under his right arm.

"Now, what kind of way is that to show your appreciation?" Gwaine laughed breathlessly, tousling Merlin's hair with his free hand while the servant boy twisted and squirmed in his effort to get free.

"Appreciation?" Merlin cried. "I'll show you appreciation!"

Merlin's fight-back provided the others with another brief spectacle until Leon, acting on a quick nod from Arthur, took pity on Merlin and freed him from Gwaine's grip with a few swift moves.

Ruffled but with a good humoured grin on his face, Merlin stood up and did his best to straighten his clothes. "And the rest of you are no better," he reprimanded. "Especially _you_."

Arthur gasped in mock disbelief as Merlin poked a finger in his direction and, for the second time in the last half an hour, reached out to help Merlin scale the rubble up to their perch.

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><p>"I tell you, Merlin, you and Arthur had the right idea getting a seat up here," Gwaine drawled from his new position on the section of the wrecked wall just above Arthur's head. "It gives you a great view. Did you see that woman who just walked past? There's something about a redhead that really tickles my fancy. Hardly surprising, though, considering some of the redheads I've known."<p>

As Gwaine chuckled to himself Merlin shook his head, Elyan turned and laughed and Lancelot looked up at Gwaine disbelievingly. "Gwaine, they're _refugees_," he said in disgust. "Surely you draw the line at upset and destitute young women?"

Gwaine looked down at his fellow knights who had all picked out relatively comfortable spots on the fallen debris to rest their weary muscles. "Maybe they just need a handsome knight of the realm to care for them, defend them and the like?" he suggested with a wolfish grin.

That elicited groans from every one of his companions but Arthur, who was leaning back on the wall just below him with his eyes closed and his face turned to the sun. Merlin shook his head in mock outrage. "Poor girls. They're out of the frying-pan and into the fire with you on the prowl."

Gwaine flicked a small piece of mortar at Merlin. "Look who's talking! You're the one giving girls the chat the minute they walk in through the gates!"

Merlin bristled defensively. "I did no such thing!" he cried, his face colouring again as the others started laughing. "_She_ came up to _me_! I was just being friendly."

"Ah well," Gwaine laughed. "We can't _all_ set the girls swooning with our deep blue eyes, can we?"

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. "That's true," he concurred, with a mischievous smirk.

The knights on the rubble below chuckled and Gwaine threw another piece of mortar at Merlin, sending it pinging off the side of his head.

A companionable silence stretched out between them all. Clouds which had been hanging around the horizon all morning finally made their way across the sun, providing some relief for the workers below. Sir Leon stretched out his long frame somewhat stiffly.

"We should probably get back to it."

Merlin looked across to Arthur who had not moved from his position reclined against the broken section of wall. His eyes were still closed and his face relaxed. If he wasn't asleep he couldn't be far from it. Merlin turned back and looked down at Leon, nodding his head quickly in Arthur's direction.

"Not yet," he said suggested.

Leon threw Merlin an easy smile as he caught his drift and settled back against the rocks. It occurred to Merlin that it must say something about them – about Leon, about this little group they'd formed – that a senior knight would so comfortably take a direction from a lowly servant. Arthur's words as they had gathered around the Round Table had not been merely the product of a moment's emotion; he'd believed what he'd said when he spoke about their equal worth. And maybe he could even allow himself to acknowledge that it had something to do with him, Merlin, as well. He might not be much use with a sword, but he'd won the respect of everyone there even though Lancelot was the only one who had a clue just how much he'd done. Merlin grinned to himself. Yes, they definitely had a lot of respect for him.

"So, Merlin," Gwaine began, interrupting his thoughts and pelting him in the head with a piece of mortar which might actually have been big enough to have qualified as a rock, "what are your plans with the lovely Edith? You're not going to chicken out and head out on patrol with Boris here instead, are you? You looked scared out of your wits when you were talking to her. She's a girl, you know, not a three-headed beast looking to eat you for supper."

Merlin glared up at him. So much for respect. "If I looked scared it'd be because I was worried she'd notice you leering at her," he accused with a cheeky smirk.

"Leering?" Gwaine cried in mock offence. "Me? Did you hear that Sir Elyan?"

"I did, Sir Gwaine," Elyan replied, his face creased with good humour. "Outrageous."

"Merlin, I take offence!" Gwaine continued, moving his hand to rest on the hilt of his sword. "Sir Percival! What action should I take about this slur against my good name?"

Percival turned slowly to look up at them, his eyebrows raised. "Stop leering at women?" he suggested dryly.

It was Merlin's turn to laugh and the others joined in. Unexpected and pithy remarks were becoming quietly-spoken Percival's trademark and they were, more often than not, aimed in Gwaine's direction. But, unable to resist a joke even at his own expense, Gwaine just kept setting himself up, time and time again.

"Right," muttered Gwaine, fighting the grin which was spreading across his face. "Always good to know who your friends are. Never you mind, Merlin. I was just thinking that me and the boys could give you a bit of friendly advice about women, is all."

"Advice about women?" Merlin asked incredulously. "From you lot? No thanks."

"What's that supposed to mean – 'from you lot?'" Elyan asked, squinting up at Merlin.

Merlin threw out his hands. "Look at you. There isn't a girl between you!"

The knights looked around at each other with slightly doleful expressions, loath to admit the truth of Merlin's words. A few pairs of eyes came to rest upon Arthur, who was still lying back against the stones, utterly unresponsive.

"Uh uh." Merlin shook his head, piping up before anyone had a chance to say it. "Boris doesn't count. It's a miracle Gwen still has anything to do with him, and that's _with_ me helping him out every step of the way."

"Ah well," Gwaine sighed. "Don't say we didn't offer. You'll be missing out on some real pearls of wisdom."

There was a short silence but Merlin couldn't resist. "Go on then," he sighed, knowing he was going to regret asking. "What've you got?"

"All you need to remember, Merlin," Lancelot said quickly, turning to look up at Merlin with a serious expression on his face, "is to remember to treat her like the lady she is. You need to respect the beauty in her heart; her goodness and compassion. Each woman has that inside her...some more than others."

It was almost painful to look at Lancelot just then, the earnestness of his words and his solemnity; the way his eyes lit briefly upon Arthur's form before he looked back down at his hands.

Elyan must have felt the awkwardness too, because he spoke up quickly. "Flowers. You can never go wrong with flowers. Women just seem to have a..._thing_ about them."

"Be a good listener," Percival suggested simply, drawing a smile from Merlin.

"Stay on the good side of her mother and father," Leon suggested. "It won't matter how much she likes you if her parent don't."

Merlin waited a beat before looking up at Gwaine, the only one still to make a suggestion despite being the instigator of the conversation. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"All good, all good," Gwaine nodded approvingly. "For myself, when it comes to women, I live by one simple rule...never make a spur of the moment decision after five hours in the tavern – she might not be such a looker in the morning."

A collection of groans filled the air and Merlin flicked a pre-prepared piece of stone up at Gwaine. "That's about all the advice I can take," he laughed.

"Don't you want to hear mine?" Arthur asked, startling Merlin and drawing everyone's attention. He was still lying back on the wall and had only one eye cracked open to peer at Merlin. "It's what my father told me when he caught me looking sideways at Sir Ordric's daughter when I was thirteen."

"Oh, I've got to hear this," Gwaine grinned, leaning forward in his seat. "Birds and the bees advice from Uther Pendragon!"

"Alright, let me see if I can get it just right." Arthur sat himself up awkwardly and let his head hang back as he thought. When he spoke, his tone was dry but he had a grin hanging about his lips at the memory. "He sat me down in his chambers one evening, gave me a glass of wine, rested his hands on my shoulders and said: 'Arthur, I'm about to tell you everything you need to know about women: get her with child and I'll have your head on a platter.'"

The mirth that had been rising in Merlin as he watched Arthur tell his story broke into unrestrained laughter and Gwaine was so amused it took a steadying hand from Arthur to stop him falling from his lofty perch.

They were still laughing when Gwen appeared, looking up at them with an expression half bemusement and half relief. Merlin knew what she must be thinking. It had been too long since there was much laughter in Camelot. He felt as though they'd achieved more sitting around for half an hour than they had in the whole morning of work.

"Arthur, Geoffrey needs to see you in the throne room, if you have the time," she said, regretfully. "I think he and some other members of the council want to have another try at convincing you to take the regency. And there's a messenger waiting for you. Apparently the grain supplies from the northern borders have been delayed. And," she smiled at him apologetically as her list of problems grew, "we need your permission to turn the Great Hall into temporary accommodation – we've run out of room everywhere else."

The smile had fallen from the Prince's face and Merlin felt his stomach drop. Back to reality.

Arthur let out a sigh, smiled weakly at Gwen and clambered to his feet, one hand on Merlin's shoulder. He negotiated his way down the rubble and between his knights with two careful leaps, landing neatly before Gwen.

"Thank you, Guinevere." He reached out with his hand and squeezed her arm in a familiar gesture before he turned back to them.

"Get everyone back on with the sorting those stones and I'll be back when I can. Stay here Merlin," he added. "But don't try to move any more bricks. You'd be even less use to me dead, if that's possible. Just...supervise or something."

Merlin grinned at the vague wave of Arthur's hand.

"I'll send more men along if I can scare any up. Lancelot, you're leading the patrol this evening, so don't forget to go and get some rest soon. I need you alert."

He set of walking at Gwen's side, heading towards the castle, and Merlin and the knights began to pull themselves to their feet, stretch their backs stiffly. They stopped, however, when they heard Arthur call out again.

"Oh, and Gwaine." He was walking backwards, his eyes once again full of mirth. "Leave Merlin alone. I know you're bored but if you bait him too much he gets all frazzled and overwrought."

"It's never stopped _you_," Merlin called.

The Prince grinned and turned to keep walking next to Gwen, the crowds of people in the street who knew well enough slipping respectfully out of their way.

"Right, you heard the man," Elyan announced, looking wearily towards the massive piles of unsorted stones. "Let's get back to it."

Merlin slipped the rest of the way down towards the ground and adjusted his rolled up sleeves. Percival and Leon eyed him disbelievingly as he moved to take his place in the chain.

"I thought Arthur told you to sit this out," Leon observed.

"Pfft," Merlin breathed disparagingly. "Moving a few stones is hardly going to _kill_ me."

Four boulders later, Merlin was reconsidering the embroidery.

* * *

><p>AN: So there it is. I hope you enjoyed it. I had so much fun writing it I'm considering writing one or two more stories about 'the gang' as they settle into their new positions in Camelot. I'll see how they turn out. Thanks for reading.


	3. Gossip

Summary: A collection of stories about the goings on in Camelot as Arthur, Merlin and the knights ("the gang") set about rebuilding after Morgana's defeat. Lots of banter and bromance.

Chapter 3: Gossip - A group of refugees discover that Camelot is full of scandals...and singing drunks.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

A/N: As people seemed to like Watching the Girls and had such good suggestions about what they would like to see "the gang" get up to next, I decided to write a few more stories and keep them all together here. They won't necessarily be chronological. This story is a bit different as none of the main characters have a speaking part. Hope you like it all the same.

* * *

><p><span>Gossip<span>

The morning after their arrival, a small group of refugees sat around in the corner of the Great Hall, perched on bags of belongings or lying back on the blankets which served as beds on the cold stone floor. Around them, children played, some folk tried to sleep and others gossiped in a similar fashion. Gossip, like the smell of the unemptied chamber pots, was spreading quickly around the hall.

"Well, not bad, eh?" said one man, tall and lean and with only four teeth. "Never thought I'd be living in a bloody _castle_!"

The rest of the group, all middle-aged and jaded, laughed dryly in agreement.

"Aye," said another, whose weary eyes aged even his silver grey hair. "Miletha seems a long way away."

"You don't need to tell me," said one of the women. "Take a look at my feet!"

They chuckled again.

A group of young men, most wearing the capes of the knights of Camelot, came walking into the hall. The sweet young woman with the dark curls, who had been tending the refugees so devotedly since their arrival, walked over to meet them, and a long conversation ensued with much pointing and gesticulating. The group in the corner watched them with quiet interest.

"Working out where they're going to put more folk, I expect. There'll be lots more on their way," noted the grey-haired man.

Murmured agreement rumbled between them.

"Don't look much like knights, do they?" a third man remarked, his thick eyebrows coming down heavily over his eyes as he frowned.

"You're telling me!" cried a man with a rounded belly, sat uncomfortably atop a pile of worn-out clothes. "Should've heard the mouth on that shaggy-looking one in the tavern last night. Ah, don't look at me like that Maeve; I was just getting my bearings. Anyway, he had a good few tankards of mead under his belt, by the looks of him, and him and that dark-skinned lad, well, they were singing a tune that would've made a sailor blush. Let me see, how did it go? 'I once knew a maiden who hailed from the west, and after a drink she'd show me her...'"

"That's enough, John Brunwin!" scolded Maeve, scandalized. "For heaven's sake, if my mother overheard that she'd keel over dead!"

"And we wouldn't want that now, would we?" John muttered sullenly.

"They're not all knights though, are they?" began the first man, eager to avoid an embarrassing marital disagreement. "I heard it said that that gangly-looking dark haired lad is an advisor to Prince Arthur. And the blondie to his left is his manservant. Boris, I think it was."

"Oh, aye?" the first woman asked. "And where did you hear that?"

"Owen Cobbald told me Guthrie's daughter Edith got talking to them yesterday, like. Says she's taken a right shine to the advisor fellow – I forget his name, something odd – and he wasn't exactly uninterested, if you know what I mean?"

"Well, why would he be?" Maeve asked, indignant. "Right pretty girl is our Edith. Ah, just think – all these awful goings on and young love still finds a way."

"Life goes on," the grey-haired man concurred.

"I'll tell you another thing," Maeve continued. "You know that lovely young girl who's been looking after things? The pretty girl in the lavender dress?"

All eyes flicked to where said young woman was still talking to the knights.

"When I was out fetching water this morning, I heard that her beau is Prince Arthur himself!" Maeve disclosed.

"No!" cried the other woman, eyebrows disappearing under her fringe.

Maeve looked decidedly pleased with herself. "That's what I heard," she twittered. "A fine thing for a humble young woman. Apparently the Prince _kissed_ her in the middle of the courtyard; couldn't care less who saw them!"

"Well, that turns my stomach, I must say," the other woman declared, a disgusted frown etched on her face.

"Come now, Ailith," the grey-haired man clucked. "It wasn't unknown for you and Cedric to share a moment or two a little too openly back in the day."

Ailith coloured but shook her head. "It's not that. It's just that last night...oh, I probably shouldn't say."

"Well, you have to now, you daft woman," snapped Cedric of the hairy eyebrows. "Spit it out."

Ailith scowled at her husband, but leaned in and began speaking in hushed tones. "I was taking a walk yesterday evening to stretch out my legs, you know? There wasn't a soul about and I was walking around the corner when I saw that girl - Gwen, I think her name is – in a, shall we say _amorous_ embrace with a dirty looking youth who I must say looked a lot like that manservant you just pointed out, Fintan."

"Who? Boris?"

"That's the one."

"Are you sure, Ailith?"

"I'm certain of it. Whispering sweet nothings, the two of them were, not a glint of daylight between them."

"Well, I say," Maeve murmured.

"What lass in her right mind is going to turn over a _prince_ for a scruffy-looking servant like that?" John pondered. "Maybe she's not right in the head?"

The group nodded sagely and turned to watch as the cluster of knights, the Prince's advisor and his rogue of a manservant began to manoeuvre some long benches in through the door under the direction of poor soft-headed Gwen.

"Puts me in mind to wonder where the Prince is while all this is going on," Fintan observed after a moment. "Haven't seen hide nor hair of him so far. Lazy beggar."

"That's royalty for you," Cedric sighed.

As they watched, the knights and their hangers-on managed to bungle the bringing in of the benches to the extent that the Prince's advisor nearly took off his manservant's head as he swung around to talk to someone while holding a bench over his shoulder. Boris had to drop gracelessly to the floor in order to avoid the long beam of wood and the shaggy drunk laughed so hard he let his own bench slip and drop on the foot of the quiet dark-haired lad (the only one of the bunch who looked remotely like a knight). At this point, the giant heaved the drunk off his feet and made as if to drop him on his head while the others laughed and poor simple Gwen stood with hands on her hips but a smile about her mouth.

"It's a mystery to me how they won the kingdom back," the grey haired man said wonderingly.

More murmurs of baffled agreement greeted this remark. John Brunwin heaved himself off his pile of clothes and staggered to his feet.

"Where are you off to then, John?"

"Well, _someone_ has to take care of the chamber pots before we die of the stench," he announced. "I'll have a word with Edith's advisor fellow. He can get Boris to do it."

"What makes you think he won't tell you to do it yourself?" Maeve asked. "We might be living in a castle but we're peasants all the same."

"A little bit of friendly persuasion," John answered with a wink. "I'll let Boris know we know all about his shenanigans with the Prince's simpleton sweetheart. That oughta get the scoundrel paying attention."

The others sat about and watched as John picked his way through the hall full of people and approached the group near the entrance. They couldn't hear the words being spoken but they could clearly see the knights stopping to listen and Boris's face turned a peculiar shade of puce. It took them by surprise when said knights fell about laughing and Boris, a murderous expression on his face, reached out and smacked his master firmly across the top of his head.

"I'll tell you one thing," Cedric muttered as they watched. "It might be a fine city they've got here, but it's populated by a bunch of absolute crazies."


	4. The World of Good

**A/N: So, it's been a while between drinks! Basically, I turned to Banter-therapy to cheer myself up after the finale and revisited some extra chapters I'd written for Watching the Girls. Now they're actually done and I thought other people might like a bit of cheering up too**

**Summary: A collection of stories about the goings on in Camelot as Arthur, Merlin and the knights ("the gang") set about rebuilding after Morgana's defeat at the end of season 3. Lots of banter and bromance.**

**Chapter 4 – The World of Good: Arthur tries to stamp out any further mention of Boris and the Chamber Pot Incident but Merlin and Gwaine won't give up that easily.**

The World of Good

Gwen held the flowers to her nose and breathed in deeply as she turned the corner. Picking them had been a good excuse to leave the castle for a while. She'd needed the space and the time to think. She'd always been busy within these walls, but now was different. Now there were always too many things to be done. Now there was no way any of them could stretch themselves thin enough to achieve all they felt they ought. Now there was a castle bursting at the seams with traumatised refugees, a city in ruins, a king who had shut himself off behind a wall of misery and desolation and a son working desperately to fill the breach. She hoped the flowers would put a smile on his weary face.

The door to Arthur's chambers stood open as she approached but she thought nothing of it, walking in and heading straight for the table where she meant to leave the flowers. Pulling the wooden vase out from under her arm, she was about to reach for the jug of drinking water when she heard a noise to her left. She turned slowly and looked around. Again the noise came: the creak of wood and a hollow thump. It was coming from the wardrobe.

Turning the vase in her hand so that she was grasping the neck of it, Gwen glanced over her shoulder towards the door. She had seen no guards on her way in and there were unlikely to be any around – Arthur had every able-bodied man working on the rebuilding efforts or keeping watch around the city's perimeter. She paused to think and another bump came from the wardrobe accompanied, this time, by an urgent whisper. Gwen frowned and, vase now raised above her shoulder, took a few silent steps towards the wardrobe before pausing once more to listen. More whispers again from two separate voices. Two _familiar_ voices. She crept close enough to make out fragments of their whispered conversation.

"...off my foot..."

"...trying...your fat head..."

"...not my fault...stupid idea..."

"...come up with anything better...stop wriggling..."

At this point the wardrobe doors looked as if they were about to burst their hinges for all the commotion inside. Then came a particularly violent tremor and a gasp of pain.

"My nose!" came the affronted hiss. "Get that away from my head!"

"Sssh!"

Gwen shook her head as a knowing smile formed on her lips. She couldn't even imagine what mischief those two had been up to before she disrupted them. She lowered the vase and smiled wider as a wicked idea formed in her mind.

"Yes, the intruders are in there," she said out loud. The whispers died instantly. "In the wardrobe. I wouldn't risk opening it – just fire your crossbows."

"No!" The doors to the wardrobe flew open and Merlin and Gwaine spilled out onto the floor, a tangle of arms and legs and...chamber pots. "Don't shoot! Don't..."

They looked up to see the room empty but for Guinevere who stood with her arms folded across her chest and her eyebrows raised in an expectant stare.

Gwaine let his head fall forward onto the stone floor in relief and Merlin let out an awkward splutter of a laugh.

"Do I need to ask?" Gwen demanded, coolly.

Merlin clambered from his hands and knees up to his feet. "Doesn't look good, does it?" he asked.

"Not exactly. No," Gwen agreed. "Is there a good reason for the pair of you being in Arthur's wardrobe?" She looked around at the collection of half a dozen pots which had rolled out of the wardrobe with them. "And why do you have...Wait. This isn't to do with..."

"Boris and the 'Chamber Pot Incident'?" Gwaine asked cheerfully as he got to his feet and threw Gwen a broad grin. "It might be."

Gwen did her best to look stern though it was getting harder to hide her smile. "So you're planning on tormenting him?"

"Not tormenting, exactly," Merlin said, his nose scrunched up in deliberation as he looked around at his partner in crime. "It's more...friendly teasing, would you say?"

Gwaine nodded resolutely. "Playful ribbing. Good-natured jesting. Brotherly..."

"He'll be livid," Gwen cut in.

Gwaine let his head fall towards his right shoulder, his hair brushing past his eyes. "Ah, well. He left us no choice. He forbid us calling him Boris and banned any further discussion of the Chamber Pot Incident."

"So you had no choice but to smuggle five chamber pots into his rooms?" Gwen asked incredulously. "I think it might be time to let it go."

Merlin and Gwaine exchanged mischievous looks of barely restrained delight.

"You think we might have taken it a bit far then?" Merlin asked, with a pointed look over Gwen's right shoulder.

She turned in the direction of Arthur's bed and saw what her focus on her task had stopped her noticing as she walked in. Stacked in walls and towers around, under and on Arthur's stately four poster bed were dozens of chamber pots of every shape and size. They were balanced precariously on top of each other, the central tower in the middle of his bed standing a perilous seven pots high. Gwen felt her jaw drop.

Half skipping, half jogging past her, like an excited child about to receive a birthday gift, Merlin turned and grinned, his eyes glowing. "What do you think?" he asked.

"What do I...?" Gwen dragged her eyes from the bed to look from Merlin to Gwaine and back again. "Where ever did you get them all? There must be..."

"One hundred and twenty-seven," Gwaine supplied, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "It took a while to find them all."

"And then there was getting them all up here," Merlin said.

"And constructing the tower," said Gwaine. "But once that was done the outer walls were easy."

A gasp of laughter escaped Gwen and once it was out she couldn't hold the rest in. She laughed until she felt tears sting her eyes. "I think it's wonderful," she cried at last. "I admire your hard work, however misplaced it might be."

Merlin and Gwaine took her praises with grins upon their faces.

"But you'll have to take it down before he gets back, of course," she added.

"No!" cried Merlin. "We can't do that! It'll be fine. He'll think it's funny...eventually."

"He might do," Gwen conceded. "But as he'd already have had you both beheaded by that time, you won't be around to see it."

"Ah, come on," Gwaine complained. "Arthur can take a joke."

Gwen shrugged. "Well, I've given you my advice. Leave it up it you like. But Arthur's spent most of the morning meeting with his father's council and when he gets out Elyan is waiting to tell him that the mortar they used for the last section of the outer wall hasn't dried properly and it all needs to come down again."

Gwaine winced and looked round at Merlin. "She might be right, brother."

Merlin looked deflated but resigned. "All right," he huffed. "Come on then. You get the wheelbarrow. I'll start taking down the walls."

"Ah. I'd like to help, Merlin, really I would," Gwaine began apologetically. "But I'm supposed to relieve Lancelot and he's been on patrol since last night..."

Merlin exhaled as if he'd been hit in the stomach. "Well how am I supposed to...?"

"You go, Gwaine," Gwen intervened, a hand on the knight's shoulder. "I'll help Merlin."

"You're a gem, Guinevere," Gwaine proclaimed as he backed towards the door. "An absolute gem."

She shook her head as Gwaine rushed out of the room and disappeared along the corridor, then turned back to Merlin. The young man looked thoroughly dejected. She wrapped one arm around his shoulders. "At least _I_ got to see it," she offered. "And one day when Arthur's not so tired and...temperamental, we'll tell him all about it."

"We could be waiting a while," Merlin huffed, petulantly.

Gwen smiled and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Come on. Let's get it done."

Merlin plodded over to the window and pulled out a number of crates from behind the curtains. Gwen watched him out of the corner of her eye as they began to dismantle the collection.

"He's just so tired, Merlin," she explained apologetically. "You know how hard he's working. He deserves a little more leeway than usual."

"I know," Merlin said, offering a smile and seeming a little more himself. "You're right. We got a bit carried away."

"How was your tour of Camelot with Edith?" Gwen asked with a sideways smile.

Merlin's groaned and shook his head. "It went as well as you could expect, I suppose, when half of Camelot is grinning at you like you're up to something and tousling your hair as you walk past." He put on a deep, jovial voice: "'Nice work, Merlin. Didn't think you had it in you! Ha ha ha.' Honestly, am I that pathetic?"

Gwen giggled. "Of course not. You're well liked, Merlin. They're happy for you."

Merlin hummed dubiously. "And when I wasn't being ridiculed by the townsfolk we were trying to avoid Gwaine and Elyan."

"Gwaine and Elyan?"

"They thought I could use a hand so they offered to 'chaperone'," Merlin muttered. "It took an age to give them the slip and then I had to be a bit creative in avoiding them while they were 'patrolling' the lower town. It involved taking Edith for a close-up inspection of a recently thatched roof."

Gwen laughed. "Oh well, it could have been worse," she reminded him, reaching under the bed to scoop out three more pots.

"How so?"

"Someone could have told her you're Arthur's manservant. Or Arthur could have told her who _he _really was in the Great Hall the other night."

"After the Chamber Pot Incident?" Merlin grinned, piling another two pots into the barrow. "Then she might not have wanted to see me at all."

"Oh, I'm sure she would have forgiven you a small untruth," said Gwen. "But it really was very kind of Arthur to keep quiet. I don't think I'll ever forget the look on his face!"

"It was when the man said: 'The slops, son, what d'ya plan to do with the slops?'" Merlin laughed, repeating the line which had been most quoted by he and the knights (Elyan did it best) since that fateful evening.

"Oh, don't!" laughed Gwen. "Poor Arthur."

"You didn't have to put up with him that night," Merlin muttered, still grinning and loading his wheelbarrow further still. "Wouldn't shut up about whether he _looked_ like a servant or not."

"He said what?" Gwen asked.

Merlin continued on jovially. "Oh, you know, what kind of idiot would think he looked like a servant? Couldn't people see good breeding when it was staring them in the face? Just how stupid did that man think he was? The day he looks like a servant is the day..." He stopped short as he looked across at Gwen. "Um, Gwen?"

With a determined frown on her face and surprising speed, Gwen was replacing one chamber pot after another, rebuilding the mounds which surrounded the tower in the centre of the bed.

"I've changed my mind, Merlin," Gwen declared, in a tone Merlin had learnt indicated she meant business. She placed two more pots on the blankets. "Gwaine was right. Someone with Arthur's _good breeding_ would obviously be capable of taking a joke, don't you think? I don't know what I was thinking. It must be my feeble servant's brain."

Merlin laughed nervously. "I'm sure he didn't mean..."

"The chamber pots, Merlin," Gwen said calmly. "Replace the chamber pots."

With more than a few uneasy looks across at Gwen but laughter building in his chest, Merlin obeyed orders and set about replacing the pots. Once they were all back in position, a mountain of toileting facilities upon the regal bed, they stood back, hands on hips, to admire their work.

"One more thing," Gwen said, taking the bunch of wildflowers up off the table and climbing up on the blanket box at the end of the bed to place them in the topmost pot. "There. Fit for a prince."

They were both laughing as they turned to the door to make a hasty exit. Gwen took Merlin's arm as they left the room and hooked hers through it. A spring in their step, they walked quickly down the corridor and following a bout of edgy giggling as they imagined Arthur's reaction, they nearly jumped out of their skins as they bumped straight into someone coming the opposite way around the corner.

"Merlin!"

"Edith!" Merlin gasped, holding onto the shoulders he had grabbed to steady her for longer than was strictly necessary. "Are you all right? I'm sorry. I was, er, distracted."

The girl raised one hand and squeezed his arm gently, the look on her face warm and admiring. "Oh, that's all right, I'm sure you're very busy with lots of important work."

Merlin glanced at Gwen slightly shamefacedly.

"I was coming to look for you, actually," Edith continued, she paused awkwardly. "I wanted to see you before I left."

"Before you left?" Merlin repeated. "What do you...? You're leaving?"

Edith smiled thinly. "My father's found labouring work at the quarry. They're opening a camp there, for all the new workers. It's a long way from farming like he's used to, but they need the stone for the rebuilding. It's important work."

There was a slightly defensive tone to her voice and Merlin nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, of course." A strange ache was building in his chest, a despondent self-pity. "Perhaps...perhaps you don't have to go? I could help you find work here in the city and..."

But Edith was already shaking her head. "I can't leave my family, Merlin, not after all that's happened. You understand."

Merlin smiled tight-lipped, suddenly embarrassed by his offer, and nodded wordlessly. Gwen, whom he had forgotten for a moment, noticed his discomfort and spoke up then, her words soothing and kind.

"The quarry is not a full day's ride from here," she said encouragingly, smiling warmly at Edith. "I'm sure we will see you often. I'm glad things have worked out well for you, and that your family will be able to help us with the rebuilding effort. There will be a lot of good work for you at the camp, Edith."

Edith nodded her blonde head resolutely. "That's what they told us. There will be a lot to do, I suppose, with all those people suddenly living where days ago there was nothing but trees and dirt." She looked shyly up at Merlin. "I should be going. Thank you both for all your help. You don't know how much it has meant."

"It's been our pleasure," he assured her. "Take care, Edith. I hope I see you soon."

He reached out and took her hand, pressing it gently between both of his. Her eyes were green with a hint of hazel. He felt the ache build and forced himself to let go of her hand. Edith gave him one last look then hurried away.

"Are you all right?" Gwen asked quietly as Edith disappeared around the corner.

Merlin fixed a smile on his face and opened his mouth to answer, but stopped as he heard Edith's voice from the next corridor.

"Oh, Boris! Thank you again for helping with that washing this morning."

"Not at all," came Arthur's voice.

Gwen and Merlin exchanged confused looks. '_Washing?'_ Merlin mouthed moments before Arthur appeared around the corner. He walked up to them with shorter strides than usual on account of his still injured leg, a tired smile on his face for Guinevere.

"Arthur," Gwen greeted.

"Washing?" Merlin repeated, out loud this time.

Arthur grimaced and scratched the back of his head. "I saw Edith this morning on my way to the council meeting. She had a load of wet clothes and wanted to know where she could find _pegs_," he explained, somewhat incredulously.

"Pegs?" Gwen repeated.

"So I offered to take her to the washing lines."

"Arthur," Gwen began. "Do you even know where the washing lines _are_?"

The prince scrunched up his nose. "I took a couple of wrong turns," he admitted, "but I got there in the end. Did you know the washing lines are a ridiculously long way away from any water supply?"

Merlin, who felt as though he'd spent the better part of the last few years lugging Arthur's wet laundry to those very same lines, turned to his fellow servant. "I've never noticed that, Gwen, have you?"

Gwen allowed a small smile at Merlin's sarcasm and Arthur's cluelessness but did her best not to laugh. "That was very kind, Arthur."

"Well, it would have seemed a bit strange if Boris hadn't known where to hang out washing, wouldn't it? Thing is, I wasn't sure of the etiquette and once we were there it felt rude not to help her hang it out."

Merlin did a bad job at stifling a laugh at the image.

"Yes, thank you, Merlin," Arthur snapped. "That seemed to be the general opinion of the large number of servants who stood about to watch. And goodness only knows what my father's council thought when they saw me lugging a basket of wet washing across the courtyard as they waited for our meeting."

Merlin made no attempt to restrain his laughter this time.

Gwen, smiling up at Arthur, put her hands gently on his chest as she closed the gap between them. "That really was very sweet of you, Arthur."

He dropped a kiss on her forehead and rubbed his hands affectionately up and down her upper arms before looking to Merlin.

"I heard Edith's family are moving to the new quarry camp? You're, um, all good, are you?" he asked stiffly.

Merlin nodded and folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, fine," he muttered gruffly. "Thanks."

The two shared a few awkward nods.

"Good. That's good, then," Arthur muttered, before regaining his footing by moving from the emotional to the practical. "I know they didn't have much when they arrived. I asked Leon to speak to her father and offer whatever assistance we can."

Taken aback, Merlin nodded his gratitude. "Thank you, Arthur."

The prince thumped him solidly on the shoulder. "Anyway, I'm on my way to meet with Lord Edward – he's rarely in court these days and I don't wish to keep him waiting since he's been kind enough to come at my request – so I need to change into something less filthy," he announced, stepping past Gwen and heading for his chambers. "Do I have anything that matches that description, Merlin?"

Gwen and Merlin exchanged looks of terror as Arthur began walking towards the door to his chambers. Trust Arthur to start acting decently right when they had already arranged his comeuppance.

"Merlin?" Arthur prompted, without looking behind him where the other two were gesticulating wildly at each other.

"Uh," Merlin jogged along the corridor at Gwen's frantic urging. "I'll go have a look. You wait here."

"Wait here?" Arthur repeated incredulously. "Why would I get dressed in the corridor?"

Gwen appeared before him, stopping him in his tracks, and lifted both his hands in hers. "Tell me about your meeting," she asked, as if she would find nothing more interesting. "Was it productive?"

Arthur frowned at her sudden interest. "It was fine. Long," he answered, attempting to steer her with him along the corridor.

Gwen stepped in front of him again and brought them to another halt. "Were the council pleased with the work that's been done?"

He shrugged distractedly. "Mostly. Of course, if my _father_ had been in charge it would all have been done differently. You know what they're like."

Again he tried to walk towards his chambers but Gwen blocked his path. This time she couldn't think of anything to say so she just smiled up at Arthur with a slightly panicked expression on her face. A loud crash sounded in his room. A deep frown etched on his face, Arthur craned his neck in attempt to look through the door before gazing down at Gwen, suspicion blossoming in his eyes.

"Guinevere," he said sternly. "What's going on?"

Gwen smiled, opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't think of a single explanation. Arthur gave her one more look of consternation before stepping around her and walking towards the door. Biting her lower lip, Gwen hurried along behind.

"Arthur!" Merlin gasped, as the prince walked into the room and froze just inside the doorway.

Merlin was standing by the foot of the bed, a wheelbarrow next to him and his arms wrapped around at least six chamber pots. Arthur's eyes travelled from his servant to the bed, taking in the array of pots, complete with a bunch of fresh wildflowers peeking over the edge of the uppermost bowl.

"Surprise," Merlin choked out weakly, the pot which had been hanging from one finger on his left hand, crashing to the floor.

Arthur pursed his lips and folded his arms across his chest. He nodded slowly. "I see," he muttered. "And this would be...some kind of joke?"

Behind him, Gwen let out a choke of laughter. Arthur dragged his eyes away from his manservant (who was practically quaking with a mixture of restrained mirth and nervous tension) and looked around at Gwen. She was standing behind him with her hand clamped over her mouth and laughter dancing in her eyes.

"_Really_, Guinevere?" Arthur asked dryly, surprised at her involvement.

"I'm sorry, Arthur," she gasped, failing to look penitent in any way whatsoever. "We thought you might find it amusing."

"No you _didn't!_" Arthur exclaimed, scathingly.

"No, we didn't," Merlin agreed jovially. "We were fairly sure you'd be, you know, _you_ about it."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Arthur demanded.

That was too much for Merlin and Gwen and they couldn't hold back their laughter any longer. As he watched the two of them giggling like a pair of children, Arthur shook his head and allowed the corners of his mouth to turn his glare into a begrudging grin.

"Oh, you're a regular pair of court jesters, aren't you?" he muttered in dry amusement.

It was then that Sir Leon arrived at the door.

"Sire, I've brought...oh."

Arthur turned to face his knight, a tight smile and raised eyebrows adorning his face.

"Sir Leon! Come to join the hilarity?" Arthur asked, holding his arms out wide.

"No, Sire," Leon explained, a confused smile beginning to play around his lips. "Lord Edward has arrived and asked me to bring him to you."

At this he stepped aside and Lord Edward, grey and wizened – one of the few of the old guard whose counsel Arthur truly valued – stepped into the room. Merlin and Gwen's laughter came to an abrupt stop.

"Arthur," Lord Edward began, "I understand you're busy, young man, and thought it might be more convenient for you if I came to you here." His practiced diplomatic facade quivered only slightly as he took in the goings on. "But perhaps not."

Throwing Merlin and Gwen a murderous look which they had the good grace to receive somewhat sheepishly, Arthur walked over towards his father's long-time adviser and took the proffered hand. "Lord Edward, thank you for coming at such short notice. And yes it might be best if we go...anywhere but here. After you, please."

As he ushered the old man out of the room Arthur paused for long enough to wave an irate finger around at the scattered chamber pots. "Now! I mean it," he hissed. Merlin and Gwen nodded dutifully but still too cheerfully for Arthur's liking.

"I must say, Arthur," Lord Edward said from the hallway, drawing Arthur quickly to his side. "Camelot seems to have changed a bit since my day. I have a feeling your court may be quite different from your father's."

"You may be right, my Lord," Arthur's voice agreed with a hint of annoyance.

"A good thing too," the aging lord declared as their footsteps sounded on the stone floors. "It'll do you good, my boy. Mark my words. It will do you the world of good."


End file.
